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Remy LeBeau ([info]ace_of_clubs) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-09-18 09:19:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 23, location: church, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Who: Remy LeBeau & The Doctor (Tenth)
What: Gambit keeps his promise.
Where: At the Church
When: Day 23, 10:02pm
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete

'Church, ten o'clock' the Doctor had said. Thankfully, the mutant was able to read his digital wrist watch with no problem. It had a little feature where you could push the button and it lit up. How cool was that? So after watching the Time Lord walk off into the darkness, he had turned back around to watch the fire burning down the barn. Really, it was fantastic to behold, and though he idly wondered if the smoke would fill up the bubble and kill them all.. he wasn't really that concerned. This enclosure was huge, after all.. and there had to be some sort of exchange going on, right? Else they would have run out of oxygen long ago.

While standing there watching the barn burn, Selene had come along.. the Cajun had been more than happy to indulge her for a while, before finally he'd collected up the buckets of water, his washing board, and various other items, and had taken them across town towards the church. He'd only been there a handful of times, but he had enjoyed it, it was peaceful. So it was at ten o'clock that the Cajun, hauling along three buckets full of water, five water bottles, three empty buckets, a washing board, and a little red wagon (all rusted and ugly, but still working) down the road to the Church. He would, of course, end up having to turn into the woods, but he just took it slow from there, until he was passing by the cemetery, slowing his steps to rake red eyes out across the graves. There were at least two bodies in there, Selene had said she'd buried them there.. idly, he wondered who they were. But he wouldn't dwell on it. The strictly Catholic-Raised Cajun (except for Tante Mattie, who was into voodoo) mentally repeated a prayer, though he'd lost his faith long ago. It was habit.

And just moments later, he was coming to a stop in front of that church and leaving the red wagon behind as he went up the stairs, pushing open those double doors and stepping on through. He hadn't ever been inside the church.. but as he stepped through the doors, he felt a little shiver. That was what faith did to you, kids. It made you feel like God was watching you all the time. And right now, he felt a little paranoid about it -- Sinners didn't want God watching them all the time.


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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-18 03:04 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor, who wasn't a man of this particular faith (really, it was hard to have a belief in an almighty when you had such a scientificly bound mind and the power to navigate time and space at a whim) Had actually taken to setting the front of the chuch up as a work station. The altar was strewn with bits of metal and wires and a large contraption that was clearly on it's way to being built into something. Pews had been dragged up front and tasked as shelves holding the collection of pieces and bits the genius had deemed useful. Was it that hard to believe the Doctor, a man of science, would turn this place of faith into his workshop? Sorry for those he'd offended.

With the sound of the front door closing, the Time Lord turned around from his work to give the Cajun a nod before laying out more bits beside the bulk of the modulator. He was planning his work, and making sure he had everything he needed to complete his contraption. He'd told you, Remy, he was going to complete this tomorrow. Don't doubt him, not this time.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-18 03:10 pm UTC (link)
He wouldn't doubt him.. he looked very into it, as if he had to do this. Like it was an urge, a need. He would never doubt that look. But when he got no verbal greeting, he simply closed the doors behind him and slowly came forward, nearly heel to toe in his silent movements as he looked around. The last time he'd been in a church, he'd been bloody and hiding. It didn't bring back great memories. But it'd been a long time.

But instead of breaking the silence, he was simply coming up alongside the older man to look over his work and his half-built contraption, a gloved hand moving out to touch idly at some of those parts, before he reached out to touch at the modulator.. or what would soon become the modulator. And once his fingers were satisfied with the cool metal he found there, he was moving them again. This time, they found spiky brown hair, and he curled his fingers lightly, before simply sifting them through the darker strands, watching as the Time Lord worked on the modulator. Curious.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-18 03:34 pm UTC (link)
Of course he had to do this - the Doctor needed to fix something, and eh couldn't fix himself or the ginger man. He couldn't fix his friends, or this place. What he could do was build something to break the wall. That was sort of like fixing, wasn't it?

The last time the Doctor was in a church he'd been watching a man by Lazarus die. He'd been watching a man who'd wanted to live forever spend his final moments writhing in agony while he tried to tell him that a longer life isn't always a better one. That life seemed to only mean one thing for the oldest of creatures: that no matter what you just end up alone. It was a sad thought, truly; but, it was how the centuries old Doctor felt.

He was sorting out wires by length for a moment and then placing them strategically so they'd be ready when it came to terminate them on their circuits. He was checking those lengths and he barely paid any mind to fingertips that ran along the machine. Though, when that hand turned to his hair the Doctor hardly responded - though, it was sort of comforting, the silence.

"Did you eat anything?" He asked in a thoughtful tone, coiling copper and lining a large barrel with it.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-18 03:42 pm UTC (link)
"Non." He admitted quietly. "Vous?" Because he seriously doubted that the Doctor had fed himself, either. The slightly shorter man seemed to be incapable of taking care of himself. Or, so thought the red-eyed Cajun.

No matter the answer he got, his fingers still played gently through that spiky brown hair. It longed to feel it under his hand, not just along two fingers. He wanted to feel it on all of his fingers, his palm, just tickling at the edge of his wrist. He wanted to trail that hand down the other man's neck and rub it over his back, feel the fabric beneath his skin. But he couldn't.. he could, however, pretend. And he was indeed trailing that hand down, over shorter hair in the back, then over his bare neck, the collar of his suit, down to his back where he began rubbing in a circular motion, slowly and casually. It was meant to be comforting, but knowing this pair, it might come off as a sexual advance. The Cajun, who was so sensual and sex-oriented.. and the Doctor, who knew it. It was hard not to think about those touches being something made to lead into sex, since the young American was sex personified. Everything he did, all those little moves, the tone of his voice, the sway of his hips, the way his fingertips stroked.. it all read: sex. But as the Doctor had learned in his stay here, sometimes those touches didn't mean sex at all. When he'd begun removing the Time Lord's clothing, in the cemetery a week ago, it had been for a dance.

He was still full of surprises, Doctor. You just had to let him show you. That was the hard part, wasn't it?

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-18 05:02 pm UTC (link)
"Uh huh," he said, producing one of those pouch meals before he pushed it back beneath the improvised work bench. Reaching back under again he'd hold an unopened one for the Cajun to take. Though it was rapidly dropped as the feel of leather at the back of his neck made the Doctor forget the plan he'd had to affix a little chip beneath those wires and was instead, arching forward, taking posession of his skin from the Cajun's touch.

The problem wasn't that that touch could be construed as sexual. It wasn't an issue that he knew precisely what that Cajun could do with those hands, and had done. No, what was issue was that leather, a very distinct feeling against his own skin that still carried with it some rather unpleasant memories.

"Make any ammends?" He asked abruptly, his middle pressed flush with the table's edge as with jittery hands he tried to press that chip into place. Breathe, Time Lord.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-18 05:07 pm UTC (link)
Remy jerked his hand back some when the Doctor pulled forward, worried he'd hurt him or something without realizing.. but when he looked down at his hands, he noticed that glove and a slow breath was released. The glove. "Non.. Pas encore." Not yet. But he was turning his eyes onto the meal laying on the floor, bending there at the waist to pick it up and turn it over in gloved hands. Then he carefully set it aside on the bench. He'd eat it a bit later. Right now, he was unbuttoning both gloves, carefully peeling them off, then he made a particular show of assuring that he dropped both of them into the Time Lord's range of vision, though he never brought naked hands into the picture, only falling gloves, which would hit wood, and settle there.

Only then did his hand come back, this time warm and pliable against the Time Lord's neck, settled against his skin quite purposefully. "Merci beaucoup." For the food, that was. He really would eat it, Time Lord. Eventually.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-18 05:14 pm UTC (link)
The French was barely discerned because the Doctor was trying to adjust the chip and get it planted right where it ought to be. He'd hardly heard the snap of buttons and leather as those bits of the other man's attire were set on the bench. He didn't even turn his head to look. No, he was just going to breathe. He was going to bottle up the hints of panic and burrow them down deep.

There was the notceable heat of skin against the back of his neck, and despite the tension in his muscles the Doctor forced a sigh. He forced himself to accept that touch. When had he ever done that before? He never accepted anything. He took when he wanted to and ignored when he didn't. Yet, that contradiction of a man was letting that hand sit there. Clearly, if you were paying attention Cajun, something was more than a bit off.

"You should eat."

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(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 05:17 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 05:28 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 05:33 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 05:48 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 05:54 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 06:09 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 06:15 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 06:25 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 06:29 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 06:38 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 06:41 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 06:50 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 06:54 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-18 07:02 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-18 07:07 pm UTC

[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-19 02:58 am UTC (link)
If you didn't like the thigh between your own, Gambit, you really wouldn't like the fact that this Doctor of yours was pressing more insistently against them and parting them further, and your reaction to this touch was only spurring him on, arousing the Time Lord. He hadn't bothered to look at the Cajun's face again, burying his mouth in the spot where shoulder becomes spine and biting hard. That would leave a mark.

One hand let go, freeing one of the Cajun's as the Doctor reached down the sinewy back of the other man to grab his rump with a needy squeeze. If the Time Lord was able to look at himself - if he could see what he was doing, he wouldn't even know it was him. He didn't do this. He didn't act this way. There was nothing of the Doctor in these actions - just a man who'd been pushed so far he broke and he needed to break someone else. That someone would be you, Remy.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-19 03:01 am UTC (link)
With the harder bite, the Cajun made a displeased noise and used that now-free hand to press into the Doctor's shoulder. "Non." He said sharply. The grab of his rump and the incessant pushing of his legs apart wasn't okay. He would not be playing bottom tonight, Doctor. Not like this. Not now. Not ever, if you kept at it. "'Nuff, Doct'r." He gripped bare fingers tightly onto the other man's shoulder and pushed, to get him at arm's length away.. that is, if he was able. With his position pinned, it wouldn't be an easy task, even with that extra muscle. The Doctor had gravity and leverage working for him. And the Cajun really didn't want to hurt the older man. He was being careful, for now.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-19 03:19 am UTC (link)
Hand on his shoulder, noise in his ear; neither made him budge.

"Vous avez dit n'importe quoi," The Doctor's tone a hiss. You said anything. He planned to take his anything. So, the Cajun pressed his palm into his shoulder, the other still tightly restrained, it didn't do much to make the cantilevered Time Lord move. It was a matter of physics at this point, Remy. He was at an angle and you were pinned. He was using those thin muscles against you and he was making sure you couldn't move. You'd have to try harder.

Because the Doctor was just getting started.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-19 03:26 am UTC (link)
When the Doctor reminded him that he said he'd do anything, his muscles relaxed a little again and he slumped back against the wall, taking a few breaths to try and calm himself down. Anything. Right. He could let the Doctor do anything, as long as it made him happy, right? As long as it fixed him?

Was this really going to fix him? His fingers tightened on that shoulder. But he was still for a moment, maybe he could do this. Maybe he could just relax, and it'd feel good, and his Doctor would calm down, and it'd be good. Maybe. "D'accord, jus'.." Yeah right. Like you could go through with this, mutant.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-19 03:32 am UTC (link)
He could feel those muscles relax and the Doctor was pulling his thigh away, watching the Cajun closely for a slow release of breath. When that came and went the Time Lord was swift, grabbing the Cajun's shoulder and turning him around. He knew how you moved, Remy. He could anticipate you as well as you might anticipate him - well, at least when you weren't freaked out of your mind and dealing with a version of him you hardly recognized.

Didn't you say before he was off? Didn't you know the minute he'd manufactured that gun from nothing that he wasn't safe anymore? Yet, you'd followed him into this room and you'd relaxed for him. Stupid Cajun.

The Doctor was pushed up against the Cajun's back, a hand lacing atop one of the man's others, fusing it with the wall. It was all about need now. All about what this Gallifreyan wanted. All about the pain he could inflict on someone else.

This wasn't anybody's Doctor.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-19 03:43 am UTC (link)
He had relaxed. He'd managed it. But when he was so suddenly jerked and turned and shoved up against the wall, red eyes got wide and he pressed his free hand into that wood and tried to twist the other away, so he could press it into the wall, too. "Non!" He snapped out. "Ain' okay wit' 'dis. Lemme up. Now. Ain' wanna do 'dis righ' now. Leggo!" Your Cajun had changed his mind, Doctor. But were you really going to listen? He was jerking a leg, trying to get it out of the jeans, but it was stuck, so he had no leverage with his feet, just his arms and the press of his naked body into the wall.

He wanted to be away from that wall. He wanted that cool body away from his. Now. "Ge' off!"

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(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 03:49 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 03:54 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 04:00 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 04:06 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 04:11 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 04:15 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 04:20 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 04:26 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 04:38 am UTC

[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-19 04:47 am UTC (link)
The Cajun had left the Church in a rush, and he'd fisted both hands into his hair and tugged a while, hating himself for having hit the Doctor so viciously, but what was he supposed to do? There wasn't anything else he could have done.. and he'd taken off at a sprint, just to get away from that Church, to get anywhere else. He'd eventually met with the glass and had run along next to it as fast as he could manage. Lord knew what he was running from. The Doctor, the aggression, the memories.. maybe even the guilt.

Whatever it was, it took him an hour and a half to find his way back to the Church, still slightly sweaty though he'd stopped running fifteen minutes ago. He was a little out of breath, but that wasn't just from the physical exertion.. he was nervous. He was unsure. He was scared, and still walking into the Church. He was scared to know what he'd find in there. If the Doctor attacked him again.. he didn't know what he'd do. And he was so worried about that. But he had to cool himself down and think positive. Silent footsteps took him through the Church and to that door, gloved hand smoothing along it before he tried the handle.

"Doct'r?" His voice was lower, hoarse from his running and the coughing that it had caused. Were you in there, Doctor?

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-19 04:55 am UTC (link)
The Church had been gifted with a quiet moment when the Cajun had stepped inside. Well, actually, it'd been quiet for a while. The Doctor had been laying on the floor, the shaking gone, his voice long since left him.

If you could see through walls, Remy, you'd spy him there on the floor, balled up in a rumpled heap. Bet you never thought you'd see him like that, and if he had his way you never would.

He was replaying in his mind as he laid there the feeling of a scalpel slicing out his tongue. The way his mouth had flooded with blood. They way he thought they'd let him keep his voicebox just so they could hear him scream. Scream he had until the blood ran down his throat and choked him leaving him sputtering until he passed out.

Hot and cold. Hot and cold. The Time Lord felt chills run over him body as he tried to force himself out of it. 'Doct'r,' he heard. It wasn't loud and it wasn't close, but it made him freeze.

Don't come in here Remy LeBeau.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-19 05:02 am UTC (link)
The old, squeaky handle twisted beneath an expert, gloved hand, and the red-head was leaning into it to try and push it open, but it wouldn't. Locked. He let out a slow breath and pressed his head to the door. "Doct'r?" He questioned again. However, when he got no response, he released the handle and leaned back, staring at the door a moment. Then a single finger extended out, one of the two that wasn't gloved, and he touched it against the cool metal of the handle, charging it up with only a small amount of power, before he retracted that hand and it popped, then crackled as the mechanism inside exploded with a small pop. Oh, he was so good at that.

He twisted the handle again and pushed. This time, the door opened up. Really, he hadn't even needed to twist.. the bolt was gone completely. A push would have done it..

But that wasn't foremost on his mind right now. No, finding his lover was. And once he'd stepped inside and taken a quick look around to assure he wouldn't be assaulted again, his eyes dropped to the curled figure on the ground and his heart skipped a beat. Was he okay? "Doct'r?" He questioned more softly, abandoning the door and coming carefully forward, still a bit concerned he could be grabbed.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-19 05:10 am UTC (link)
There was a hiss and a pop and a squeal and without looking the Doctor knew that the door was open and the Cajun was coming inside. Was he coming in to kick you around some more, Doctor? Perhaps he was, you deserved it, after all. You'd tried to force yourself on him. You'd tried to take from him and make him feel just as powerless as you did. Apparently, the Doctor realized, he hadn't succeeded because the other man was back in the small room again. He was saying his name softly, asking a quiet question, the Doctor shuddered in response.

Go away, he thought. Get out.

The Doctor wanted to scrape himself up off the floor, but the way he'd clenched up at the sound of the Cajun's voice left him shaking again. It left him wounded and battered and powerless. You may not be able to hear the sobs, Remy, but you could see them as they wracked thin form and shook him from shoulder to foot. If he hadn't brought his arms up around his head in a defensive manner, you'd see the tracks of tears down his cheeks.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-19 05:15 am UTC (link)
When he wasn't attacked, the much younger man slowly came a bit closer, moving around to be closer to the Time Lord's head, so he could crouch down, then sit on the wooden floor and reach out a gloved hand. But before touching, he thought better of it and pulled that hand back to remove his glove. Just one. And it was those bare fingers that were pushing through spiky brown hair. "S'okay." He assured him in a softer tone, though his muscles were tense and he was ready to jump up and fight at any moment, but he didn't think he'd have to. That hand trailed down, to the other's shoulder, gripping gently.

"Doct'r?" He wanted some sort of confirmation this was his Doctor, and not the crazy man who'd tried to rape him two hours ago. He suspected, though, that it was his Doctor.. else why would he look so totally broken? Maybe he'd realized what he'd done. Maybe everything had just come crashing down. Or maybe it was all some sort of strange, sick trap. And that was why he remained tensed and tight. "C'mon an' looki' me. S'okay.."

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-19 05:22 am UTC (link)
There were fingers in his hair and they made him feel like he could explode. There was a voice in his head and it made him feel worse. Everything made him feel worse. Everything. As if those fingers in his hair hadn't been bad enough, well, that hand was on his shoulder and squeezing. The Cajun would find a knot of hard muscles. He'd feel the shaking and the quivering of a man who could be angry - but more likely this one was just scared.

His fingers knitted behind his head, knees pulling up closer. Do you think he could make himself any smaller? The Doctor was wincing, hidden behind his arms and then he was sobbing again and he couldn't stop. He felt the choking noise coming up in his throat as he tried to forget the panic in the Cajun's tone none too long ago. He couldn't look at you, Remy; but, you already knew that.

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(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 05:27 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 05:35 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 05:41 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 05:47 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 05:52 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 05:57 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 06:02 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 06:09 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 06:13 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 06:20 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 06:25 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 09:38 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 10:17 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 10:29 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 10:39 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 10:58 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 11:06 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 11:34 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-19 11:39 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-19 11:50 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-20 12:09 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-20 12:17 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-20 12:23 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-20 12:31 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-20 12:37 am UTC

[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-20 12:46 am UTC (link)
"Luck had nothing to do with it. I pushed the button. I could have stayed and fought. I could have made someone else. I could have stopped it." He was playing all the same thoughts he'd had in his head over and over again. Ask Nine, he'd tell you about those first days where he hadn't slept or ate but only thought of ways he could undo what he had done. Ways that would never work, could never work.

"It is what I am," implicitly, enjoyment had nothing to do with it.

He hung there against the Cajun, wincing as his eyes closed and all he could see was flecks of gold scattering among stars, smell the bitter burning of the TARDIS' circuits as he tried to undo what he'd done. All he could hear were his own screams as he realized the mighty Time Lords had melted away.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-20 12:52 am UTC (link)
The mutant pursed his lips a little when the Doctor winced and closed his eyes like that. He didn't like that look on his lover's face, not even a little. And it was then that he was rolling them, putting the Doctor on his back, and him atop-- but only for a moment. He was spreading his legs, knees landing on the opposite sides of the Doctor's thighs, then he was drawing back and sitting up, straddling those suit-covered legs, before jerking off that last remaining glove, tossing it aside. Then both hands were moving down to grab onto the Time Lord's hands and gently pull him to sit upright.

"'Nuff. C'mon." He couldn't watch you like this anymore. And with the Doctor upright, Remy was able to wrap him in his arms for a hug for a few seconds.. but then he was withdrawing and standing up, pulling the older man along with him. "Ain' gonna be no sleepin' on 'de floor." With these words, he was tugging the Time Lord out of that room, one hand remaining firmly in his while he tugged open the door and led the way back out into the main church. The pews were small, he realized, so it was the altar that he was leading them to. That was plenty big for someone to sleep on. Uncomfortable, yes, but better than the floor. He'd make them a nest of sorts later. Tomorrow. When the sun was up.

"Si'." He instructed, while indicating the altar. Just like a sacrifice, Doctor. Hop on up.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-20 01:02 am UTC (link)
He cooperated with the Cajun, allowing him to pull and yank and lead. He was in a bit of a fog anyway - what did it matter where they went? What did it matter what they did? All that mattered was that big, black wound in his core. The fact that he'd relived the worst moments of his very long life again and again and again.

The Cajun was leading him up to the altar and the Doctor balked. "No," He still had strength in his bones and he was backing away. He was not taking his modulator off of the workbench. He was not going to tangle the wires. He'd worked for hours to get that set up just right. He'd organized it just so. No, he would not have that space trifled with.

He'd pulled out of your grasp, Remy and he was moving a few paces ahead to sit himself down on one of the pews, looking up and out over the front of the church like a man looking for God.

"Do you believe in God, Remy?" C'mon, they were in a church and the Doctor was tired of talking about himself, it seemed the most likely question.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-20 01:12 am UTC (link)
The Cajun turned to watch as his Doctor walked away from that altar, balking at moving any of the equipment there.. but he was slowly following along, turning only once the Doctor had sat down on that pew. And he was carefully sinking down next to him, bare hands clasping in his lap as long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him, toes pointed to the ceiling, feet spread about shoulder-width apart. He was slumped forward some, hands clenching together, then relaxing, before clenching again. That question. How did you answer such a complicated question?

"Use' t'. Raise' up Cat'olic. Sermons in La'in. How I learne' i'." He knew Latin? Oh yes, Doctor. You had no idea the languages he could spout out. You'd be amazed. Mayan and Aztec you knew.. but Latin, too? Why not. He had a laundry list of useless languages. "Ha' 'dem righ' in m' home." Since they'd lived in a large community, not unlike gypsies had years back. "Bu' no' anymore, I don' t'ink." Could you guess the exact moment he'd lost that faith? The faith he'd clearly had. You might be surprised.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-09-20 01:20 am UTC (link)
When the Cajun said he used to have sermons in Latin the Doctor allowed himself to be distracted. "No Vatican II for your church?" The question had been more mumbled than asked outright. He wondered if they still had the priest giving sermons with his back turned. It was quite a production those Catholic masses.

When the Cajun said he didn't believe anymore he didn't get a pitying look from the Doctor. In fact, he didn't get a reaction at all. The Doctor just continued to stare long and hard in the direction of the modulator. With no moon the stars were all the light they had in the broken down church and it made everything seem that much more soiled.

"I'm going to sleep," he said abruptly, rolling on to his side and pulling his feet up to follow. He should have been thanking you now, Remy, for scraping him up off the floor. For staying when a lesser person would have gone. He should have been telling you how much it meant to him to have you there. He should have told you that he loved you and was a giant idiot for not wanting to acknowledge it.

Instead, the Doctor sighed and stared off into the dark. How long until he fell asleep with his eyes opened? He'd close them if he didn't just see an empty void of space every time he did.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-09-20 01:28 am UTC (link)
He should have asked. He might have been surprised to hear the answer. There was no priest. No priest among thieves, Doctor. It had been Remy's own surrogate father who had read out those sermons, who had educated the youngers and elders in their little guild. Religion of the underworld variety. They'd listened to sermons while going through the loot they'd taken. That was just how things went, it was how he was raised, right mixed with wrong, good side by side with evil. It was why he'd never really be like the others on that 'team'. He had no clear black and white.

He'd never really be a good guy, for all the 'right' decisions he'd make later in life. No. He'd always return, somehow, to his old ways. No one changed. Not completely. Certainly not Remy.

But when the Doctor so abruptly ended that conversation, red eyes shut tightly. He'd actually wanted to talk about it, it would have felt good, to at least get it off his chest. But that wasn't to be. And he just let out a slow breath and pulled his hands apart, pushing off of the bench and standing, a slow, languid movement. And those silent steps took him away, back into that office so he could snatch up his gloves, and the Doctor's trench coat, before returning. The coat was draped over his lover like a blanket, and he was sitting down, his back level with the Doctor's, just going the opposite direction, as he was sitting up, back pressed into the seat of the pew.

And he silently tugged on those gloves. "Bonne nuit."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-20 01:39 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-20 01:46 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-20 01:58 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-20 02:11 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fromgallifrey, 2009-09-20 02:33 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-09-20 02:40 am UTC


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